No Secrets Between Partners
by PurpleHipposRock
Summary: When Deeks leaves on a last minute mission, he writes a letter to Kensi confessing all of his secrets. But will Kensi ever get the chance to tell hers back?


'You're later than usual,' Sam remarked, watching Kensi stumble in wearing high heels, extremely figure-hugging skinny jeans and a purple tank top. Her makeup was a lot heavier than she usually wore it, with dark red lipstick and black mascara lengthening her lashes, but no amount of makeup could mask the fact that her eyes were still extremely sleepy.

Callen walked in, holding a cup of coffee, and looked her up and down. 'You trying to impress someone, Kensi?' he asked before sitting down at his desk next to hers.

Kensi shook her head and placed her bag at her desk before heading off to the coffee machine, mumbling something about needing more sleep.

'What's with the makeup, Kens?' Callen tried again when she returned, looking a bit more revitalised from the effects of the caffeine.

'Makeup?' Kensi asked, looking confused. 'I wear makeup every day.'

'It's a wee bit heavier today,' Sam hinted.

'Yeah, I mean, what's with your eyelashes? Were they always that long?' Callen asked.

Kensi closed her eyes briefly, aforementioned lashes brushing her cheeks. 'What's wrong with wanting to look nice for once?' she finally asked.

Sam shrugged. 'Nothing at all. You're a hell of a lot better to look at than G and Deeks are; that's for sure.'

'Hey,' Callen protested.

Kensi looked around the bullpen, her eyes finally landing on Deeks' uninhabited desk. 'Where is Deeks?'

'Good question,' Sam replied. 'He's even later than usual.'

'Miss Blye.'

All three agents jumped at the sudden appearance of Hetty.

'You finally made it,' Hetty continued.

'Sorry, Hetty,' Kensi apologised. 'I slept through my alarm.'

'Well, that's what you get when you stay out until midnight drinking with your partner,' Hetty said in place of a scolding.

Kensi blinked. 'How did you know...? Ah, forget it.'

'That's why you're wearing so much makeup. You're hung over,' Callen said.

'Not that much.'

'I would hope not,' Hetty said forebodingly.

'And if you think that this is bad, you ought to see Deeks. He drank _way_ more than me.'

'Unfortunately, you _won't_ be seeing Mr Deeks today,' Hetty said. 'Or, in fact, for another month at least.'

Kensi paled. 'He's been sent undercover _again_?'

Hetty sighed. 'No warning. An alias of his received a call last night requesting immediate assistance with something to do with an arms deal.'

'Deeks does arms deals?' Callen asked.

'Deeks does everything,' Kensi said quietly.

'He went in as a lawyer to the head of a well-known and never caught arms dealer four years ago.'

'Lawyer?' Sam asked blankly. 'Deeks can be passed off as a lawyer?'

'He went to law school, but he never practiced,' Kensi said quickly.

Callen looked at her. 'How did you know that?'

'Sometimes what comes out of Deeks' mouth isn't just gobbledygook. Once in a while, he actually does say something worth knowing,' Kensi said quietly, reflecting on the numerous conversations they'd had over the bullpen, in the car, over cooling takeaway Chinese and beers.

'Deeks, a lawyer. I can't imagine it,' Sam said. 'That's probably why he never practiced it.'

Callen chuckled wryly.

'Stop it,' Kensi suddenly said, looking at the two of them. Her eyes spoke almost too much for the two men to handle.

'Kensi, we didn't mean-' Sam started.

'It doesn't matter that you didn't mean it, because you said it anyway,' Kensi snapped before getting up and stalking away.

The two men stared after her in amazement.

'What's with her?' Callen finally asked.

'Well, you'll recall what happened last time Mr Deeks went under for the LAPD?' Hetty asked.

Oh, but they definitely could. His partner had been killed, his boss had betrayed him and he himself had been blown up, beaten and almost killed after his cover had been blown.

'But Kensi didn't react that way before,' Callen objected.

'Yeah, but G, she didn't know him very well. I mean, they'd worked, what, one and a half cases together? That isn't a lot of time to bond over,' Sam replied.

'They do know each other a lot more now,' Callen said thoughtfully.

'One might even say that each was more than a bit attached to the other,' Hetty suggested.

Both men nodded speculatively.

'Look at it this way, perhaps, gentlemen. Consider waking up, coming into work, expecting to see your partner, and instead being informed that they won't be making an appearance for the next month or so. How would you feel?'

Callen exhaled. 'Okay, that would...'

'Suck,' Sam filled in for him.

'And not knowing whether they were safe or whether they were about to be killed?' Hetty suggested.

'Okay, Kensi's reaction is justified,' Callen said. 'Where did she go?'

'Don't worry, she won't have left the building,' Hetty said calmly.

'That's not much help, Hetty,' Sam said.

'I'll find her,' Hetty said. 'I know where she went. And anyway, I have something that she'll want.'

And without another word, Hetty melted away.

There was a gentle tap on the door, and Kensi looked up, startled. She didn't expect anyone to find her here.

The door creaked open, and Hetty eased her small frame into the room through the narrow crack that she had made in the doorway before closing the door again, plunging the room back into silence.

Kensi looked back down, and didn't look back up until Hetty sat down beside her, back against the wall.

'How are you, Miss Blye?' Hetty asked magnanimously.

Kensi bit her top lip before answering, 'Okay, I guess.'

'I'm sure there are numerous questions you want to ask right now,' Hetty said.

Kensi put her head up and looked at Hetty. 'Why didn't he tell me that he was going undercover?'

'He only got the call this morning, and he had to go under as soon as possible. He barely had time to inform me.'

Kensi curled her legs up underneath her. 'You said a month, right?'

'Anywhere from a month to six months,' Hetty amended her previous words.

Kensi closed her eyes.

Hetty pulled out an envelope from a hidden pocket in her blazer. 'He wanted me to give you this.'

Kensi opened her eyes and took the wrinkled package from Hetty. She could feel something thick and bumpy beneath the paper.

'What is it?' Kensi asked.

Hetty shook her head. 'I don't know. Now, don't take too long in here. I think the boys feel as though they owe you an apology.'

Kensi smiled. 'I guess I was a bit short with them.'

'Not at all. Your reaction was appropriate. Expected, even. I'll leave you to it.' Hetty got up with a quiet movement and disappeared from the room.

Sighing, Kensi ran her fingers over the envelope, her name written in his surprisingly neat handwriting on the front. She paused before opening it, looking around the deserted stationary room; Deeks' favourite hiding place in the Mission. No-one used stationary anymore except Hetty, so she was pretty sure to be unbothered. She took a moment before ripping open the envelope.

Two objects fell out, but Kensi ignored them for the moment and pulled out the thin sheets of lined paper. The note was handwritten and every word was carefully and neatly printed in that way that had up until now always annoyed her because it was so perfect. But now, looking at it, she didn't want it to change a bit.

_Dear Kensi_, it read.

_I'm sorry you had to hear about this thing from Hetty, but LAPD kind of confiscated my phone, not to mention my weapon, but apparently lawyers don't carry guns. I wonder why._

_Gosh, I miss you already. This op could go for awhile. At best, it'll be a month and it's definitely better not mention what might happen at worst. But the absolute worst case scenario - and I know you don't want me to put it into writing but I'm going to anyway - if I don't come back from this, I want you to know, I really enjoyed knowing you. You're the feistiest, most awesome and - dare I say it? - beautiful woman I've ever known and you'll always have a special place in my heart._

_Kens, if and when I come back from this, I have two requests. A - Forget and destroy this letter, or we'll never get over it. B - Give me time. This guy that I'm going to become, he's not a good guy. He's tried being a good guy, but life treated him so unfairly that he gave up. And every time I've had to become him, it's taken me some time to get over it, mostly because, well, he's based on my father._

_I've never told you this, and I'd really appreciate it you kept it to yourself, but that guy that I shot when I was eleven? Gordon John Brandel? He was my father. I shot my own father._

Here, the paper was stained with a few drops which suspiciously looked like tears.

_He was holding a shot gun and threatening both my mother and I. Now, you ought to know by now that I don't care if someone threatens me, but I do care when they threaten the people that I care about. When my abusive, alcoholic father pulled a shot gun on my mother, I couldn't let that stand. Neither of my parents knew it, but I'd been given a .22 by a friend who knew that I was being abused and told me that one day, I'd have to stand up for myself. I didn't know that that day would come so soon, though._

_He was saying something about my mother cheating, which was bullshit, to be honest. Mom was never home because she was earning money to make up for the fact that _he_ was broke, unskilled and useless. I tried telling him, she tried telling him, but he wouldn't listen to either of us - I was a, quote, 'lying piece of shit that was the worst accident he ever made', and then he pulled the gun and pointed it at Mom._

_He was wasted. He would never have done it sober, but unfortunately, as far as I can remember, he was never sober. Every single memory I have of him, good or bad, was of him drunk._

_And so, I pulled my gun. I don't even remember pulling the trigger. All I remember is a loud bang and then he was falling and Mom and I sat on the couch while the paramedics took Dad away and then the police started asking questions. I remember Mom hugging me and saying that I never would have done it unprovoked, that I was a good kid, it was all Dads' fault._

_But I've moved on from that. I didn't kill him, but he's dead anyway. Car accident. Hetty found out when I got shot. Remember how we had that whole mystery about who my next of kin was? I kinda started to sympathise with Callen by the end of it._

Kensi laughed at that reference, Callen, the 'eternal man of mystery'.

_And now, Kensi, my point? There are two. Firstly, the man who I'm 'being'? He's basically my father. And that's why I'm going to have a very hard time getting over this op, whether it's short or long. And secondly?_

_I have no secrets now. And so, if I don't come back from this, you know everything. And if I do - well, I hope you'll forgive me for trying to hide this, but I've been hiding things for all my life and sharing isn't something I'm used to. And if and when I get back, I hope you're ready to share too._

_I'm going under in an hour. Not long to prepare. But I had to write this. I couldn't go without telling you exactly what I needed to._

_Until we meet again, very Special-to-me Agent Kensi Marie Blye, stay safe. I don't want Callen and Sam pulling me out to save your incredibly perfect ass._

_(Hoping that this won't be awkward when you read it)_

_Love, Deeks._

Kensi couldn't help but laugh through her own tears at the farewell. It was so typically Deeks.

'Not awkward at all,' she whispered, running her fingers over the sheets of writing and sighing.

She stretched out her cramping legs and in the process, her leg nudged something. She smiled and picked up the two things that had fallen out of the envelope along with the letter.

Stuck on the objects was a yellow, slightly wrinkled Post-It note which also featured his perfect handwriting.

_Hang on to these, Kens. I don't trust the LAPD to keep them safe._

She laughed and picked up the slightly battered black leather covered badge with a shiny silver LAPD emblem. She ran her fingers over this and then flipped it open. His picture smiled out at her.

She picked up the other object. It was his watch. It was nothing special, just a simple black sports watch, but it meant a lot to him, and now, to her.

Smiling, she ran her fingers over the face and then slipped it onto her arm, taking off her own watch and putting it into the envelope, along with the letter. Grasping his badge like a lifeline, she got up and sighed. Time to face the music.

'Kensi.' Callen got up from his desk chair and watched her carefully as she made her way into the bullpen. Her face was tearstained and she was grasping two objects, one white and one black, like they were the only things protecting her from a painful death. Then he spied something that confused him. 'That's not your watch.'

He watched as she sent the watch a fond smile as she ran her fingers over the face.

'No,' she murmured, shifting her hands so that he could see that the black object was an LAPD badge.

'Kensi, I'm sorry if what we said upset you,' Sam said, seeing that Callen was taking his time about it.

'I'm sorry about my reaction,' Kensi said in reply.

They all nodded in unison, and all was well.

Suddenly, Eric let out a wild whistle. 'Guys, Vance's gonna be on the big screen in two!'

'Coming, Eric,' Callen called back. 'You gonna be alright?' he asked Kensi.

She nodded and took a moment to tuck Deeks' letter in a special corner of her desk drawer. 'I'll be good.'

And they continued to do their jobs.

Three Months Later

Kensi sat alone at her desk in a state that was near catatonic. She wasn't moving and wouldn't respond to anything, not water or wind or, the most shocking, junk food.

Then again, not many people were much better. Nell had been crying for an hour and had shown no signs of letting up. Eric tried to comfort her, but to no avail, as he had also shed a few tears while spilling drops of his Red Bull all over his keyboard.

Hetty had locked herself away in her office and could be heard yelling in a dozen different languages at different people on the telephone. Occasionally mild cursing could be made out in the muddle of languages.

Sam was hitting a punching bag very, _very_ hard. _Extremely_ hard. In fact, if he hadn't hurt his hands by that stage, he was going to quite soon.

And Callen? Callen was trying to both comfort Kensi and snap her out of the trance that she was in. All she could do was sit there, clutching a battered badge like it was her last descendant.

Because just an hour ago, they'd watched as Deeks had walked into a warehouse, only for it to blow up into an explosive fireball only minutes later.

At first, Kensi had just stood there in shock. And then she began to deny it. After the denial came the tears. And after the supply of tears seemingly dried up, she just seemed to go into a trance. One that they'd all tried to snap her out of, but to no avail.

'Come on, Kensi,' Callen whispered. 'Please? Just take the water.'

Obediently, almost scarily obediently and extremely un-Kensi-like, she took the water and sipped until the glass was dry. Then she put the glass down and continued in her uncommunicative state.

Callen sighed and wished that Nate were there. Nate would know what to do with an unresponsive Kensi.

He _really_ wished that Deeks was there. Because even more than knowing what to do with an unresponsive Kensi, if Deeks were there, everything would be fine.

Callen wouldn't lie; he was _tremendously_ shaken up by the footage. But somewhere in his brain, something said, _hang on, something doesn't seem quite right. It doesn't feel right._

Of course, if one of your team was hideously murdered in an explosion, it wouldn't feel right. But this just didn't feel like the time they'd lost Dom. And it didn't feel like what Callen would imagine losing Deeks would feel like.

'Kensi, please,' Callen pleaded, but she did nothing.

Suddenly, he was aware of a yelling voice, and then a door slammed. Silence fell over the grief stricken OSP Centre, and even Hetty stopped yelling in what sounded like Mandarin and hung up the phone. Nell stopped crying and Eric stopped spilling his drink and just dropped the can altogether, and Sam almost fell over when he realised what was going on.

He panted, gasped, fought for air. If he could only just get there, she would make it all better. His lungs burned and he had the sneaking suspicion that he was extremely dehydrated. He guessed that that had something to do with the fact that his skin was shiny with several angry red welts from the fireball that used to be the warehouse. There was also a nasty looking gash in his leg and he suspected that this had been caused by a rather large piece of flying wood which had been dislodged by the explosion.

He was almost there. He'd been running for three minutes now, only trusting the cabbie to drop him off almost a mile away from the Mission. He could tell by the looks that he was being given that he really didn't look at that good, and if he could see himself, he would probably agree with them. From what he could see of himself, he was wearing a navy blue pinstriped suit which was now... well, wrecked. The jacket had gotten so torn up and burnt that he'd conveniently 'lost' it on the way to the cab, and the pants weren't exactly much better compared to what they looked like when he put them on that morning. For one, there was blood all down one leg, and he was surprised that from the amount of blood he'd appeared to have lost that he was still conscious, but there you go. For another, they were wrinkled and had lost their precision creases, and Deeks could feel air against his upper leg as he ran and assumed that he'd torn the pants.

The only thing that was anywhere near salvageable from his current outfitting was probably the shirt, as he was pretty sure he'd needed to change his shorts from the moment the building blew up. The shirt was still somewhat clean, if not a bit sooty and there were a few smudges of blood, but he was pretty sure that it would all come out with a good wash. Or maybe dry-cleaning. In any case, he was glad that he hadn't borrowed the ensemble from Hetty. She _definitely_ would've come after him with her letter-opener after the destruction he'd wrought on this particular outfit. Thankfully, it hadn't been NCIS that had spent a considerable amount of money on this suit. He sighed. He'd just have to try and claim it in his tax.

Speaking of Hetty and the organisation she worked for...

The Mission came into view, and he breathed a sigh of relief which turned into a dry cough of torture. Yup. Definitely dehydrated.

When he'd first set eyes on this building, he felt sure that someone had made a mistake with the address. It was a forsaken building which had a sign proclaiming 'foreclosure' on the front door. The building itself seemed to have seen better days.

But now, Deeks knew better. He knew that it was the headquarters of one of the best covert operations in the country. And he was proud to have something to do with that.

Really needing a drink, he staggered into the courtyard, looking forward to the reprieve from the heat and the LA sunshine. In his condition, air-conditioned peace sounded a lot more appetising.

Two people were outside. Both looked rather shaken and were chain-smoking. Deeks, personally, didn't approve of the habit, but everyone needed their vices. His was surfing, sometimes on the job. Kensi's was junk food. And some people smoked.

'Hey, guys,' Deeks greeted them, recognising them.

Both looked at him and went sheet white. Neither said a word.

'Gees, you look like you've seen a ghost,' Deeks continued his one-sided conversation, not knowing how appropriate the remark actually was.

'I think I am,' one man said hoarsely.

'What?' Deeks asked.

The men just shook their heads numbly, and Deeks pushed open the front door, the foreclosure sign still prominent on the plain wood.

The people nearest to it glanced at it, at first just a measure to make sure that the person entering was supposed to be entering. They didn't even falter in their conversation, just continued to discuss something in hushed tones. But when they saw him even that stopped.

Someone let out a yell of shock as he let the door slam shut behind him. It was one of Hetty's pet hates, but he was sure that in his condition, he'd be forgiven, if not straight away, then quite soon.

As he limped through the Mission, silence fell, except for the steady pounding on the punching bag. And soon, even that stopped, and when Deeks glanced up, Sam was observing his progress with wide, shocked eyes and sore-looking fists.

He hobbled past Nell, whose tear streaked face was quite touching in a way, and in her shock she immediately stopped crying. Eric, who was standing next to her holding a can of Red Bull and a sticky-looking keyboard, promptly dropped both the drink and the keyboard onto the ground with a clatter. But Deeks didn't stop until he saw what he was looking for.

Kensi was sitting quite still, not looking at him nor Callen who stood directly in front of her. To his shock, he saw a pile of junk food on her desk, none of which had been touched. And they were all her favourites.

'Gee,' Deeks said, trying to fill the tension-filled atmosphere. 'Who died?'

Callen looked up at him in shock and his eyes widened, looking from him to the LCD screen where images of a burning building featured.

Deeks grinned. 'I knew you guys wouldn't be able to leave me alone. I should've known that you were watching.'

Callen gaped at him.

'Callen, close your mouth before you swallow a fly,' Deeks chuckled.

Callen did so. 'How did you get out?'

'Oldest trick in the book,' Deeks said with a smirk on his face. 'I ran like hell.'

Callen smiled and then gestured to Kensi, the smiled promptly slipping off of his face. 'She saw it.'

'It?' Deeks asked.

'The explosion,' Callen explained.

'What's wrong with her?' Deeks asked.

Callen shook his head. 'We don't know. She's basically catatonic. In shock.'

'How long has she been this way?'

'Half an hour, forty-five minutes.'

Deeks noted with a smile that she wore his watch and was now clutching his badge as if the world would end if she let it go. He patted Callen on the shoulder as Sam, Nell, Eric and Hetty made their way to the bullpen. 'Let me talk to her.'

Callen bit his top lip. 'Be gentle.'

Deeks nodded. 'Always with her. Never know when she'll try to castrate me with her boot.'

He knelt down beside her chair and gently placed one of his large hands on both of her restless smaller ones.

'Kensi,' he whispered, her hands ever-moving beneath his. 'Kensi, come on, snap out of it.'

Kensi felt as if the world was both moving in slow motion and underwater. Every sound that made its way into her ears seemed clumsy and muffled and every motion seemed to take forever and a day.

Obediently, she took the water and drank it, not knowing how worried she was making Callen feel. She didn't hear the thud, thud, thud as Sam beat the punching bag to death over and over and over again, nor the chatter of Hetty's multilingual tirade, nor the sob of both Nell and Eric.

'_Is this what dying feels like?'_ she wondered idly, for life could surely not go on if Deeks was dead.

And yet, she could believe it. Deeks was strong, he was brave and he could get out of any situation that he wanted, whether it was avoiding receiving the number of a woman he wasn't interested in or convincing an angry mob boss that he _wasn't_ a cop. But it seemed that this time he had failed.

A loud bang, like a door slamming, startled her in her thoughts, but only momentarily before she thought idly, _'I must be losing it. Hetty doesn't let anyone slam doors whatsoever._'

And then it really did feel as though she was underwater. Suddenly, even the tiniest sounds didn't filter into her head, and time seemed to be standing still. And then, out of the blue, like breaking the surface after a long dive, a familiar, _impossible_ voice broke the silence.

'_You really are losing it Kensi,'_ she thought. _'Imagining the voices of dead people. Soon your father might join in the fray.'_

Something warm was placed over her fidgeting fingers, trying to hold them still. And a word jolted her out of her reverie.

'Kensi.' That voice was impossible. It just simply couldn't be there. 'Kensi. Come on. Snap out of it.'

Kensi looked up at Deeks, dark caramel eyes connecting with shiny, _alive_ baby blues. Her bottom lip began to tremble.

'Deeks?' she whispered.

'Gee, Kens, you really don't have a lot of trust in me, do you?' Deeks looked mock-offended.

'What do you mean?' Kensi asked, a little life sparking into her eyes.

'Well, none of you do. I walk in here, and you're all _mourning_ me. My God. Did no-one believe that I could get out of a blowing-up building?' he asked.

'Well, we saw you walk in, and then the building blew up. Not much time to get out.'

'There's an old trick that I learnt about in my second undercover op.'

Kensi perked up a little. 'What's that?'

He smiled the smile that she'd missed. 'If the building is in danger of blowing up, run like hell and if you're killed, you didn't run fast enough.'

A little dimple appeared between Kensi's eyebrows as she frowned.

'Aren't you glad you forced me to do all of that fitness stuff?' Deeks asked.

Kensi's mouth opened, but nothing came out.

Deeks chuckled and with the tip of a finger, pushed it closed. 'Don't want you to swallow a fly, Fern.'

And with the nickname, the life just seemed to flame back into Kensi.

'You're alive. You're alive.' And with that, she threw herself into his arms.

Actually, the action was more like a tackle, and in his weakened state, his legs almost gave way under her weight, no matter how light she was.

'Barely,' he grunted, delightedly inhaling her scent that he had missed over the three months that he'd been away from her.

Suddenly, Kensi let go of him and punched him in the shoulder.

'Ow!' he exclaimed in shock, rubbing the offended shoulder. 'What was that for?'

'For not calling in when we all thought that you were dead!' she replied in an equally shrill tone.

'Well, I'm sorry,' Deeks said, the apology sincere in his tone.

'Wha...' Kensi faltered, not expecting that.

'Ha,' Deeks said. 'I win.'

'Dammit, Deeks,' Kensi cursed and threw herself at him again.

Hetty smiled majestically as Kensi hugged Deeks in a way that didn't seem comfortable for either of the parties involved, but they continued none-the-less.

'Miss Blye, you might want to let Mr Deeks go so that he can get some medical attention,' she finally broke in.

Surprised, Kensi let go of Deeks and looked him up and down.

'Gee,' she said. 'You look like hell.'

Deeks let out a little puff of air. 'Thanks, Kens. That means a lot.' He turned to Hetty. 'Last time this happened I ended up at the vets' pumped full of horse tranquilizer.'

'I can assure you, that's not going to be the case this time,' Hetty assured him.

Deeks let out a sigh of relief. 'Thank God for that. I don't wanna get knocked out for another fifteen hours.'

'Horse tranquilizer?' Kensi asked confusedly.

'Long story,' Deeks said quickly.

'Vets?' Sam asked.

'I'm gone for three months and all you guys can talk about are the facts that I got treated by a vet who shot me up with horse tranquilizer a whole _year_ ago?' Deeks asked in disbelief.

Callen chuckled. 'Yeah. Pretty much.'

Deeks sighed. 'I love you guys too.'

'Oh, Deeks, we care, we really do,' Sam said, giving him an affectionate punch in the shoulder which still stung, even when it was clear that he had pulled it even more than normal. 'We just don't tend to show it.'

'That's clear,' Deeks grunted, rubbing the shoulder again.

'What did you do to that shoulder, anyway?' Callen asked.

'Besides it being punched twice in the last ten minutes?' Deeks asked.

'You mean that there's something else wrong with it?' Sam asked.

'Well, you know that burning building that I had to run like hell to get out of?' Deeks asked. 'Yeah. There was the small matter of the fact that it was _blowing up_. As in _explosion_.'

'Mr Deeks, the paramedics should be here any moment to attend to you,' Hetty said. 'In the meantime, I suggest you sit down before you fall over.'

'I don't fall over, Hetty,' Deeks said, but sitting down accordingly. Hetty's orders weren't ones you defied lightly, injured or not. 'I've been known to fall flat on my face, but I don't just fall over. I do it with panache.'

'Is that what you call it?' Kensi asked. 'Because I just call it looking stupid.'

Callen and Sam snorted.

A whistle pierced the quiet of the Mission, and all eyes went to Eric up on the balcony. 'Hey, guys! The LAPD's coming on in three. And for some reason, I don't think they know that Deeks is alive. Should I inform them?'

With a confused glance towards Deeks, Hetty made her way to the staircase.

Callen and Sam exchanged a glance and then made a dash for the stairs as well.

'Where are you guys going?' Deeks asked.

'We wanna see how the LAPD reacts when they find out that you're alive. Anyone else think that they'll be disappointed?' Callen asked.

'Me,' Sam said, chuckling, and the two disappeared.

Kensi took a breath and then leaned over and whispered into Deeks' ear. He pulled away, his breath catching in his throat and they exchanged a very personal look, and anyone who might've accidentally chanced upon the sight looked away very quickly, whistling _extremely_ inconspicuously, in that innocent way that suggests definite guilt. One thing was clear now - there were no secrets between these two partners anymore.

**My first one-shot. Well, what did you think? I hope you liked it. I enjoyed writing it. I don't generally write short stories, but I think this one turned out alright. If you think otherwise, please review and let me know how to improve it. And if you think it turned out brilliantly and think that it's the most terrific piece of literature you've read all year, please review and let me know why. In fact, whatever you think about it, just review. I love reviews.**

**A special thanks to *Emdizzle* for proof-reading this and encouraging me when everyone else just groaned.**

**3 PurpleHipposRock **


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